So what's your story kid?

1 – late November 2009
12 years innately curious, making a thousand connections in my head, unable to communicate any of them.

I learned very quickly that books made a lot of sense. Written down, orderly, could go back and reference things you didn’t understand, and you always knew what these people were thinking.

Eventually, we found a doctor who diagnosed me with NDD. Basically said my brain was working so hard on keeping me upright that I couldn’t learn things like social patterns and communication.

My freshman year in high school was my kindergarten in all but academics and physiological functioning – albeit, I never did learn balance, coordination or how to move gracefully.

Interpersonally, I was always interested in relationships. Still haven’t figured that one out. My parents love me, and each other. My siblings loved me as much as any set of normal siblings could. But I’d been aching for my first kiss since I was 4. and having my own family followed right along with that.

They say people fall in love about 3 times before they settle down. After each love, I refined what I was looking for, and each one walked away with a piece of my heart. One left it intact, but held it for a long time. The last one left it in pieces, and I don’t know if I’ll ever find them all again.

I care. About people, not stuff. I find myself mothering almost everyone (until I learned how not to). I can’t learn enough. But I’m more interested in how and why things work than what they do. I desperately want to be understood.




2 – early December 2009

You think everyone has their life wrapped up into one concise story? That they already know what the highlights, lowlights, and pieces that matter are?

Let’s try this – I grew up with a brain disorder that so thoroughly confused and frustrated my mother that I am the only child she has ever hit.

By the time we had it diagnosed and cured I was in 9th grade, and while not a complete pariah with the anonymity of high school, it was Kindergarten for all but academics and basic physiological functioning.
I learned to pick up the adult responsibilities really quick though, because mom fell into some pretty bad depression and needed help running the household. I over extend, I’m co-dependent, and I care too much about too many people, and especially about how they see me.

One of my ex’s calls me the General Sherman of relationships – burning and pillaging my way through, leaving a wake of destruction behind me. What he will never see is that hurting him is one of the biggest things I regret in my life. I can never completely forgive myself for it, and it has colored every relationship since then.

Speaking of which, I’ve never been dumped, but I have had my heart broken multiple times. The most recent one left it in so many pieces... I don’t know if I’m capable of loving like that again.

The only thing I’ve ever really wanted to do – the only thing I really know how to do is to get to know people, see where they are struggling in life, and help them.

My faith is very important to me because of my experiences and understanding, and not just because someone told me to think this way. I completely respect and honor the choices of people who go through a spiritual journey to question what they know and what they want to believe, and I wish they could do the same courtesy for me instead of dismissing me as a naïve church girl.

Which reminds me – I’m smart! I mean, I’m really smart, and really good at analyzing things. But I am extremely adaptable, and I act how people treat me. So when I’m in a new group of people, I feel really lost and any confidence I have managed to scrape up over the last few years goes missing. Consequently, the new people never really get to see who I am.

I respect and admire my father more than any man I have ever met, or could imagine to meet. Close behind is my brother – my protector, encourager, challenger, clown, and partner in crime. Maybe not so much the immeasurable respect and awe, but he is one of the most important relationships in my life.





3 – (5/25/10)


"the era of ragtime had run out, as if history were no more than a tune on a player piano"
how many eras of life do we roll past? Who changes the tune roll? Are we all just player piano players? The era of being trapped by my own mind has fallen away. The era of excusable hesitance has rolled up. The era of simple love has been changed out – there are way more holes in the score and complications in the melody now. The era of being stationary will never be seen again; life rolls on like the barrel of the music box and you jump as the bumps and notches pluck your tines. It’s like inverse Braille – your fingers are outstretched, searching for the information that gives you meaning. The bits that matter brush past and send vibrations through you. How you resonate is what you take away from the experience.